We plot our dreams like mountains, then
Cry to see as tears fall from them. And
In this stupid stream we stumble, but
Only for a while.

Sweetheart, my altar's lowed. Come
Bear your changeable throat. My
Church it spoke of love and hope, but
Only for a while.

Lord, lose my mind of dread.
Love, free my thoughts of mess.
The king is sleeping yet…
The king is sleeping yet.

* - * - *

The darkest river will find its sea.
The deepest dead eye will finally see.
The timewasters earn their pitiful keep…
The timekeepers too will weep.

The timewasters will waste away, as
All our parents slowly turn to clay,
As our cloying hopes once raised,
Eyes and limbs up to meet the day.

Stick figures on a muddied stage…
This too will fade.